


It All Comes Down to You

by skintightsocks



Series: OUT Magazine Shoot [2]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-14
Updated: 2011-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skintightsocks/pseuds/skintightsocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"They promised it would be classy, like our EW shoot but just a little more gay," Darren says.  Chris saw some of those EW shots they didn't use. He isn't sure he wants to know how much gayer they want him and Darren to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It All Comes Down to You

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel to [You Might Think I'm Crazy](http://skintightsocks.livejournal.com/5494.html). Title is from the song "Down To You" by Joni Mitchell. Please don't link our fics to Glee actors!

It turns out that Darren's Out spread is popular. Like, _crazy_ popular. It takes the studio execs exactly two weeks to suggest that Darren _and_ Chris do a shoot together, which actually shows restraint on their part. It's far from the first time Out has asked Chris to shoot for a cover. He's gotten a few offers from gay publications, but he's just never been comfortable with it. He doesn't think of himself as some gay poster child and the thought of him as a cover boy is kind of laughable. Well, it is to him, at least.

"Chris," Darren says, making his best puppy dog face. "Come on. Do you have any idea how much this would mean to people?"

"'Mean to people' my ass, you just want to get wet and naked again," Chris says, poking at his salad. He hears Luke muffle a snort behind him, and Darren rolls his eyes.

"They promised it would be classy, like our EW shoot but just a little more gay," Darren says.

Chris saw some of those EW shots they didn't use. He isn't sure he wants to know how much gayer they want him and Darren to be. "Is lunch time in the craft services tent really the time to talk about this?" Chris asks.

"Yes," Darren says decisively. "You're much more agreeable when you've got access to Diet Coke and there are enough witnesses that I don't have to worry about you killing me."

"I'm not going to _kill you_ ," Chris scoffs, throwing a crouton at Darren's head.

"Kill me, assault me with salad fixings, same thing," Darren shrugs. "Now you owe me, though. That crouton had sharp corners."

"That is the weakest argument I've ever heard," Chris says, because, well. It _is_.

"So that's a yes?" Darren asks, smiling widely.

"Say yes!" Jon shouts from behind them. "Dom needs new pictures to hang in his locker!"

"Dude, shut _up_ ," Dominic hisses.

-

Chris, for some reason, says yes. Which is how he ends up at a studio in Culver City with Darren, standing in front of a rack of cardigans and vests and button-ups and ties. And, for some reason that's making Chris _extremely_ uncomfortable, a boy scout uniform and an umpire's mask.

"If this turns weird," Chris says to Darren, "I am going to actually murder you with a crouton." He tries to keep his tone joking, but he's not so sure if he succeeds.

"It's not like it would be the first time you've worn a boy scout uniform, though," Darren says. "I've seen that Rolling Stone. I subscribe."

Chris glares at him.

"I'm just _pointing it out_ ," Darren says with a shrug. "That's all."

"So much crunchy, delicious death," Chris says to himself, shrugging off his hoodie.

-

Things start out simple enough. They're introduced to John, their photographer, and they each change into white button-up shirts and sweater vests. When they get back to set Chris is asked to sit on a wooden desk, the set all decked out to look like a classroom. Chris wonders briefly if they're going to have Darren as his teacher in this scenario, but then the wardrobe guy is rushing forward to undo the top couple of buttons of their shirts and John is telling Darren to lean into the desk and stare lovingly at Chris for a few shots. Chris is caught somewhere between rolling his eyes and blushing. Darren sells it, though, batting his eyelashes and smiling softly at Chris and then sticking his tongue out until Chris starts to give him genuine smiles. After that it gets easy, Darren gazing at him with moon eyes while Chris switches from haughty and aloof to humoring to smitten as the photographer calls out directions.

"Can we get a platform in?" John calls, and a second later a PA comes out holding a crate.

"That's for short people," Chris says. "You need that because you're short."

"No, I need this because you're tall," Darren says, completely ignoring Chris's attempts to goad him. Chris rolls his eyes as Darren steps up and grins at him. It's an extra two or three inches, at most, but the photographer seems to love it.

"Yes," he calls. "Yes, lean down, whisper into his ear."

"You do realize I'm cool with this, right?" Darren asks quietly, using the set-up to his advantage. "This isn't awkward for me."

"Well, that's one of us," Chris says. "We'll see how you feel once they bring that umpire mask out."

Darren laughs, low and quiet near Chris's ear, and Chris does his very best not to blush.

"Hands on his waist now, Chris," John calls. Chris hesitates for a second, but then Darren grabs his hands and pulls them toward his body, settling Chris's hands on an area of his body that is decidedly more hip than waist.

"Great," Chris hisses. "You know they're absolutely going to use the picture where it looks like you're encouraging me to grope you, right?"

"It was my evil plan all along," Darren says, grinning down at him.

"Awesome," John says after a few minutes. "Got some great ones in." Wardrobe scurries in while the lights and camera angles are adjusted, and Chris and Darren are stripped out of their sweater vests. They untuck Darren's shirt and ruffle Chris's hair a little, and then John comes over. "Okay guys," he says, "we're going to do a few more setups in the classroom set, so really play up the school boy angle."

"At no point am I wearing a plaid pleated skirt," Chris says, laughing nervously. "Just throwing that out there."

"I'm up for it," Darren says, rocking back on his heels and very nearly falling off of his crate in the process.

"No bending over desks, either," Chris says, because now that he's started thinking about it he's getting a little paranoid.

"I will," Darren says brightly.

"No he will not," Chris says firmly.

"Relax, guys," John says. "There will be no skirts. Or bending, for the most part. I guess this means the suggestive locker room showers shots are out, though?"

" _Yes_ ," Chris says, his eyes going wide.

"Chris," Darren says, laughing and patting at Chris's shoulder. "He's _joking_."

"Oh," Chris says, flushing.

"Okay," John says, clearly repressing a laugh. "Chris, you recline on the desk, Darren you step forward between his knees. Chris is going to tug on your tie. Flirty, flirty, sexy eyes, the works, sell it."

"Hear that, Chris?" Darren asks, stepping forward between his knees. "You need to give me sexy eyes."

"I'm going to give you a sexy strangling if you don't knock it off," Chris says, still trying not to blush as he reaches down and grabs onto Darren's tie. "They've given me all the power here."

" _Hot_ ," Darren says, raising an eyebrow, and Chris is about to respond when the photographer starts clicking.

"Wonderful!" he shouts. "Wonderful, perfect, love that chemistry, keep it up! Let's sex it up a little, Chris, hand in his hair, and keep pulling the tie."

Chris flushes a little and hopes it's not noticeable as he slides his hand into Darren's hair. The lights are hot and there are so many people around and Darren keeps _smirking_. Chris has never felt less sexy. Well, except for every other day of his life. The point is, this is awkward.

"I wouldn't mind a scalp massage while you're there," Darren says, grinning.

"Watch it," Chris says, tugging at his hair a little.

"Yes!" John calls. "Yes, more of that, pull his head back a little!"

Chris hesitates but Darren gives him a little nod so Chris goes for it, tugging as gently as possible until Darren's head is tilted back. Chris thinks that he hears Darren's breath hitch, but he convinces himself that he's making it up. He tugs on Darren's tie again, readjusting his grip, and then he hears it again, and-- yeah. That's. That's definitely Darren's breath hitching.

"Make-up!" John calls. "Can we get some powder on Chris? He's getting a little red."

-

They take a break, supposedly so they can get some extra air pumped into the set, because apparently John bought Chris's explanation that he was just hot. Not stupidly embarrassed by Darren's stupid... breathing. Ugh. Who does he think he is?

"Chris," Darren says, throwing a balled up napkin at his head.

"What?" he says quickly.

"They're ready for us," Darren says, laughing.

"Oh, right," Chris says, standing up and following Darren. "What's the next setup again?"

"Oh," Darren says, looking over his shoulder and grinning. "You'll see."

-

"That," Chris says when he rounds the corner, "is a bed."

"Yes," Darren nods. "Yes it is."

It's a big bed, too. A mahogany four post with a dark blue plaid comforter and books spread across the foot of the bed. The set is done up dorm room style, a desk in one corner and classic film posters on the walls. It's actually really nice looking, and Chris would probably like it if he wasn't sure that he was about to have to grope Darren on it.

"Do you think they'll let us nap?" Darren asks as wardrobe pulls his tie loose and unbuttons a few buttons. Chris tries not to stare at Darren's throat, or at the little dark hairs on his chest revealed by the v of his open shirt.

"I highly doubt that," Chris says as he gets the same treatment. He pretends he doesn't notice Darren's eyes sweeping over his own throat, his chest. It's not like there's anything for him to see beyond how frighteningly pale Chris is.

"Okay guys!" John calls out from behind them. "We need to do a couple of lighting test shots, so why don't you go ahead and get on the bed."

Darren crawls onto the bed and settles back against the headboard, patting the empty space next to him. Chris sits down closer to the end of the bed, angled toward Darren, and crosses his legs. Darren gives Chris an amused look and pats his knee and Chris doesn't know what Darren's stupid knowing looks are for. It's not like the photographer told them to spoon.

"That's great, guys. Chris, could you try... acting like he doesn't have an infectious disease? We need to test the lighting on your faces so we need you two next to each other."

Chris flushes and mumbles an apology, crawling up to the headboard so he can settle in next to Darren. Darren pats his knee again and Chris huffs.

"I was just being _Kurt_. Kurt would never wear shoes in bed."

"You don't think Kurt would want to snuggle up to Blaine to study--" Darren leans over and grabs a book from the end of the bed, dropping it in his lap. "--Chemistry. Oh, this sucks, I hated Chemistry."

Chris laughs, and then John is telling them to tilt their heads in closer, to open the book and pretend they're studying for a few shots, and then to forget the book open across their laps and take turns staring at each other.

"Awesome, thanks guys, we just need to change a few things around real quick. Take five, okay?" John tells them, and Chris slides gratefully off the bed, making a beeline for his phone. His publicist is in the green room, and he knows they've got enough shots just from the first setup to use. He could play entitled actor brat and back out. It would probably piss Darren off, and might lead to some blind items, but Chris isn't sure if he can--

"Stop freaking out," Darren says from behind him, dropping his hand on Chris's shoulder and squeezing.

"You stop freaking out," Chris grumps, tossing his phone back into his bag.

"I'm _not_ , Chris," Darren says softly. "You get that I really mean it, right? I know it sounds stupid and self-involved and... probably a little disturbing, all, 'I'm getting sexy for the kids!' but if one boy looks at this magazine and sees-- whatever. Fuck, Kurt and Blaine, Chris and Darren, I don't care. Two guys who look like him, that let him know it's okay for him to love who he wants. That's why I'm doing this."

"I just--" Chris sighs, slumping down into his chair. "It's different, for you."

"I know," Darren says. "It can never be the same for me as it is for you, but I care. I'm not just throwing out what I think people want to hear. I grew up in the community, Chris. I promise I care."

"No, that's what I mean," Chris says. "You grew up in the community. I really, really did not. Everyone expects me to be some gay poster child, but I'm _not_. I was out because I couldn't not be. Everyone knew anyway, so why pretend? I'd get the same shit either way." He sighs. "Now all of a sudden the thing I got so much shit for my entire life is still the only thing people care about, even if it's sometimes in a more positive way."

"For what it's worth, man, I'm sorry. That's not fair to you," Darren says softly. "It's not the same for me, even though I hate answering 'So you really don't have a problem playing gay?' every interview. It doesn't matter, and it _shouldn't_ matter, but it does. For now, at least. It might be naive of me, but I'm hoping I can have a small hand in changing that, somewhere along the line."

"By taking your shirt off for the gay mags?" Chris asks with a smirk.

"I know you liked those pictures, Colfer, don't front," Darren says, smiling widely, and Chris freezes, his eyes going wide. Of course Darren would bring up the one fucking thing Chris has been trying not to think about all day. "Oh, come on," Darren says, rolling his eyes when he catches Chris's expression. "We've had this discussion. I think you're hot, you think I'm hot, we're two hot pieces of ass and there's nothing weird about that."

"Sure, perfectly normal," Chris says, even if his shoulders do relax a little at Darren's words.

"Alright guys," John calls. "We're good to go."

"Come on," Darren says, grabbing Chris's wrist and tugging him forward. "It's time to canoodle with my on-screen boyfriend for the gay mags," Darren says. Chris's stomach twists when Darren touches him but his chest feels lighter too. He can do this. He can totally do this.

"Oh, we're canoodling now?" Chris says, laughing as Darren pulls him along.

-

They're canoodling, alright. Somehow Chris finds himself with his tie loose and his top buttons undone, his head lying in Darren's lap while Darren strokes his fingers through Chris's hair as they gaze up at each other.

"Awesome, great, now make it sexy!" John calls, and Darren immediately makes an exaggerated face. Chris laughs, sudden and loud before he can catch himself, then schools his face into its best approximation of 'sexy.' It's not exactly his strong suit, but at least the camera's only getting him in profile. Darren, apparently, has nothing to worry about. He's looking down at Chris with dark, hot eyes, his fingers still stroking through Chris's hair and his free hand settling warmly on Chris's stomach, fingers toying with the end of his loose tie.

"Love it!" John says, "Put your fingers under his shirt, yes, like that, excellent."

Chris can feel Darren's fingers, warm and a little calloused from the guitar, settle on his skin, and he tries to make sure his breathing stays even. It's just a photoshoot. He's lying in a hot guy's lap, being touched in ways that Chris isn't normally touched - and by 'normally' he means 'ever' - but sure. Just a photoshoot. No big deal.

"Let's move on the bed," John suggests. "Chris, you lie back against the pillows. Darren, your head on his shoulder, arm around his waist." Chris shuffles up the bed awkwardly, rolling his eyes when Darren drops down on his chest almost immediately.

"Dude," Darren says excitedly. "We are essentially cuddling for our _job_. If professional cuddler was a real job, I'd quit acting _tomorrow_."

"I don't know, I've heard it's a competitive field," Chris says airily, and Darren snorts before tilting his head onto Chris's shoulder like John asked. Wardrobe fixes their outfits by popping open a few more buttons, showing more chest than Chris is used to showing, well, ever.

"Do you think they can photoshop me to be less pale?" Chris asks, looking down to where Darren is getting his hair fixed. "Or maybe add in some chest hair."

"If they can photoshop me to actually have abs, then yeah, probably."

"Oh shut up, you have abs--"

"Darren, can you tilt your head a little more toward Chris? Yeah, just like that, with your face in his neck. Good, good."

Chris tries to keep his expression even as Darren's breathes warmly against his neck, his nose pressed against the skin, nuzzling a little as they snap photos. It's doing weird things to Chris's stomach, having someone this close, Darren's arm thrown over Chris's stomach and cupping his hip. It doesn't help, either, when Darren opens his mouth and whispers right under Chris's ear, "You smell really good, Chris."

Chris bites his lip and mentally groans to himself when the camera snaps a shot of it. "It's the subtle scent of embarrassment mixed with self-consciousness," Chris says, trying to keep his voice light and joking.

"I just use Axe body spray," Darren says, shrugging a little in a way that only pushes him closer to Chris's side.

"Please tell me that's a joke," Chris says, dismayed.

"You'll see," Darren says, his face so close that Chris can nearly feel the movement of his mouth. "Wait until they've got you cuddling me, then you'll see."

"Little less talking, little more nuzzling, guys!" John calls out, and Chris prays that the heat he feels in his cheeks doesn't show up on camera. Darren calls out a quick apology and then rubs his nose against Chris's neck, tipping his head up so his nose brushes along the underside of Chris's jaw.

"Excellent," John says. "Nice chemistry, I love it! Darren, keep your face tilted toward camera, we don't want to lose the light."

Darren shifts, sliding a little closer as he angles his face the right way and tucks his fingers into the gaps between the buttons on Chris's shirt. Chris almost jumps, biting back a quiet noise as Darren's fingers stroke over his skin, his breath still hot against Chris's neck.

"Love the little touches," John says. "Chris, hold him a little closer, yeah?"

Chris would prefer not to. Darren is already very, very close and Chris is getting more and more awkwardly worked up from the proximity, and then Darren runs his toes over the bone of Chris's ankle, and Chris is about to snap. Luckily John whoops and tells them they've got it, ordering them away for lunch as the set is suddenly swarmed with people, cleaning up and breaking things down.

-

Chris is picking at his sandwich and trying to decide whether to text Ashley or not about the woes of being stuck shooting sexy pictures with his cast mate. He'd text Lea, but she'd probably just find it hot and tell him to embrace his sexual side or something. Chris sighs.

"Hey, what's up?" Darren says, sitting down next to Chris as Chris fumbles to erase his draft of a text message that says, _"I think I'm about to lose my virginity at this Out shoot, please send help_."

"You've barely eaten. Do you feel okay?" Darren lifts his hand up to gently touch Chris's forehead and Chris has to fight the urge to jerk away from the touch. He hasn't had to deal with this much personal-bubble-invading since everyone and their mom wanted to hug him at the Golden Globes. And even then, it wasn't quasi-sexual situations with the hot guy playing Chris's on-screen love interest. He knows how Out magazine operates. It started with cuddling but he has no doubt they will be dry humping by the end of the shoot. Chris feels his face heat up again.

"No, no, I'm fine. Just not that hungry." He flashes Darren what he hopes is a reassuring smile and Darren smiles back, tapping his leg with his fingers like he's playing piano.

"They said they're going to need us back on set in about five minutes. I think it's a library now?"

"Oh thank goodness," Chris says, grabbing his water bottle and wrapping his sandwich back up, wondering if he can save it for later. "I was starting to think they'd have us get to third base on that bed."

Darren laughs, reaching up to run his hand through his hair and wincing like he's just remembered there's product in it. "Yeah, they're kind of big on the sexual tension. At least we're going to get some interesting pictures out of this. Hey, you're-- are you still okay with this? I don't want to drive you crazy asking, but if this bothers you, we can tell them. I'm sure they have enough photos already anyway."

"No," Chris says, and he's a little surprised that he means it. "No, I want to do this. It's just a photoshoot, right?"

"Totally," Darren says with a smile, but there's a look behind his eyes that Chris catches, something serious and kind of dark, and it gives Chris goosebumps. "Ready to go get it on in the stacks?"

Chris groans. "You joke, but I wouldn't put it past them to have us making out shirtless and possibly even wet, with the way this shoot has gotten progressively... well, sluttier. And then I'll never be able to look at books the same way again."

Darren laughs, grabbing Chris's wrist. "You worry too much."

-

The problem, Chris soon realizes, is that he doesn't worry enough.

They get to keep their shirts on, thank god, though the top few buttons are still undone and their ties are hanging loosely around their necks. But while Chris was hoping for a setup that would involve smiling sweetly at each other over a table of books, what they end up with is more like secret making out in the stacks.

"Back him up against the bookshelf, Chris," John calls out. "Darren, lean back but don't slouch too much, we don't want the height difference to mess with the lighting."

Chris laughs, snorting a little under his breath, and Darren rolls his eyes. "You're like an inch taller than me, whatever," Darren says, leaning back against the bookshelf they've set up on set.

"Try three inches," Chris says.

"That's what she said," Darren replies, grinning at him.

Chris laughs again, and John clears his throat. "Sorry," he and Darren say at the same time.

"I swear, you two are the chattiest fuckers," John mumbles. "Let's close our mouths and get some sexy staring going on, okay?"

"I'm so there," Darren says. "I've got an awesome sexy stare."

"You look like Zoolander," Chris whispers, because Darren _does_. Darren cracks up, laughing so hard he leans his head forward to rest against Chris's shoulder.

"I guess that'll work too," John sighs, moving in closer and snapping a few shots. "Actually, yeah, that works, Darren, tilt your head back against the bookshelf, and Chris, you lean into his neck. Maybe pull his collar a little, some neck kissing, but keep your face to the camera."

Chris tenses up a little, and Darren notices immediately, of course, because of how they're _pressed together_. He rubs at the small of Chris's back soothingly and says, "You okay? I'll say no, if you want, we can keep the kissing out of it. They won't push it."

"No," Chris says. "No, it's okay with me, if you're cool with it."

"Are you kidding?" Darren says. "Bring it on."

"Oh, I'll bring it," Chris says, grinning and hoping his bravado actually works instead of making him sound like a dick.

"If you give me a hickey," Darren whispers, "you have to buy me dinner later."

Chris laughs and leans in, pressing his lips to Darren's neck. John calls out instructions, having Chris tilt his head a certain way and move down a little, and everything's so directed and technical that it doesn't really seem like a big deal after the first few shots.

At least, not at first. It's been a few minutes, and John is giving them less direction so Chris is just kind of idly pressing his lips to Darren's neck while Darren fists his hands in the back of Chris's shirt. The camera keeps clicking but John stays quiet, and when Chris slides his lips down a little Darren gasps quietly.

Chris tries to pull back but Darren's grip on his shirt tightens, keeping him pressed close, and Chris somehow forgets for a second - about the camera and the lighting crew and everything - and licks over the spot, sucking lightly. Darren lets out a low moan and Chris hears Darren's head hit the bookshelf loudly as he tries to stretch his neck out so Chris can get to more of his skin.

"Alright, great," John says, clapping his hands together, and Chris jumps back guiltily, doing his best to look at anyone but Darren. Darren clears his throat gruffly, and when John congratulates them on a great shoot, Chris takes the opportunity to retreat to his dressing room, pretending like he doesn't hear Darren call his name.

-

Chris spends ten minutes or so quietly having a nervous breakdown in his dressing room before a PA knocks on the door and tells Chris that the test shots are up if he'd like to come look at them. He considers begging off and just heading home, but he's pretty sure things will only be more awkward if he keeps avoiding Darren, so he takes a deep breath and heads back to set, walking over to the computer monitor where Darren and John are already standing.

"These are _awesome_ ," Darren's saying as he walks up. "Chris, look at these, we're hot as hell."

"Oh my goodness," Chris says, his mouth dropping open a little as he looks at the images John is flipping across the monitor. The first setups aren't so bad - there are some nice shots in there, even with the slightly more scandalous hair-pulling and hand-under-shirt shots. But once the library photos come up, Chris starts to blush, because _wow_. The last picture John shows them is the worst, with Darren's head tilted back, his eyes closed and his lashes fanned impossibly long against his cheek, and Chris's mouth open on his neck. He can see a hint of his tongue, and Darren's hands are fisted in his shirt, Chris's hands resting low on Darren's hips, and it looks like-- well.

"We shot softcore gay porn," Chris hisses at Darren.

" _Yeah_ we did," Darren says proudly, grinning.

"I don't understand what is wrong with you," Chris says. "Like, _as a person_."

John laughs, clapping Chris on the back and heading over to the camera, starting to pack things up.

The picture is still up on the screen, and Chris knows with a deep and horrible certainty that this is one of the pictures they're going to run. He can see the headlines now.

"Are you freaking out?" Darren asks him.

"No," Chris says, his voice cracking. "Okay, yes."

"Chris," Darren says, pulling him away from the monitor. "It's okay."

Chris finally meets Darren's eyes for the first time since he left set earlier, and his stomach twists up. He can see a red mark on Darren's neck, where his mouth had been. It's barely there, and it will be gone in a few minutes at most, but it's all Chris can look at.

"Hey," Darren says. "Chill out. It was for the shoot, we were just playing it up. It's fine, okay?"

"There are going to be so many stories," Chris says. "Do you realize that? The gossip blogs have trouble separating characters from actors. When these photos come out there will be articles about how we're-- how we're planning to adopt a baby from Cambodia."

"If it's a girl, can we name her Lily?" Darren asks.

"You are so-- ugh," Chris groans.

"That is far from the first time I've heard that," Darren says, grinning at him. "Now come on."

"Where are we going?" Chris asks, letting Darren tug him toward the dressing rooms. He kind of hates how easily he deflates just from Darren's hand on his wrist. The anxiety and guilt and hopeless infatuation are all still there, but they're easier to ignore when Chris can focus on the callouses of Darren's fingers, on how warm and surprisingly soft the rest of his hand is.

"I believe I said if you gave me a hickey you owed me dinner," Darren says, tapping the side of his neck with the hand that's not holding onto Chris's wrist. "I'm a man of my word."

-

As it turns out, Darren's idea of dinner is driving them both back to Chris's place and making Chris pay for the Chinese food they order. Darren lets Chris have the broccoli from his beef and broccoli, though, and he lets Darren talk him into adding some rum to his diet coke so Darren doesn't have to drink alone. All in all, he supposes it could be worse.

At least that's what Chris _was_ thinking, but then Darren leans over over and steals a piece of sesame chicken, darting out of the way before Chris can smack at him. "You know," Darren says, chewing obnoxiously, "if those pictures are a hit we might get offered Playboy."

"It's Playgirl for guys, genius, and unless you're just going to whip it out, there's not much more you could show anyway." Chris tries not to let himself linger on the image he just stupidly put in his own head.

"Are you _judging me_?" Darren asks. "I'm comfortable with my body, Chris, I refuse to apologize."

"You just like being naked," Chris sighs, pushing his carton away. "Don't try to make it into anything bigger."

"Was that a subtle dick joke? Because if it was, I'm kind of proud."

"Stop talking about dicks," Chris says. He's going for joking, but he really, really hopes Darren takes him seriously anyway.

"You're the one who brought up my dick in the first place," Darren says, shrugging and grinning at Chris. Darren's voice is joking, but his eyes are strangely searching, and it makes Chris feel nervous and on-edge.

"Are you done?" he asks, desperately hoping Darren will go for the change of subject.

"I can eat more chow mein," Darren says, staring down his mostly empty carton of noodles. "I can. Mind over matter."

"Do not throw up on my couch," Chris says, standing up and swaying a little on his feet. He's pretty sure it's just from standing up too quickly, because he didn't add _that_ much rum, but he takes a second to steady himself before starting to gather up cartons.

"You're right," Darren says sadly, closing the carton of chow mein and grabbing the rest of them that Chris couldn't carry. "I can't eat any more."

"I'm proud of you," Chris says, heading for the kitchen. "It's important to know your limits." He opens the fridge and puts the leftovers in, making a mental note to get someone to pick him up some more beer soon. He's not a big fan, but he has people over enough that he likes to keep stocked and Darren's on his second one.

"Hey," Darren says, leaning over Chris's back and handing him cartons to put up, instead of just waiting like a normal person. "Hey, did we get fortune cookies?"

"Yeah," Chris says, standing up and shutting the refrigerator door. Darren doesn't move, even when Chris turns around, and he's kind of trapped between Darren's body and the fridge. Darren's just staring at him, his eyes focused and unreadable, and Chris clears his throat. "They're in the bag," he says. "On the counter," he clarifies after a few seconds when Darren doesn't move away.

"Right," Darren says, shaking his head a little. "Right." He walks over and grabs them, holding his hand out to Chris. Chris takes one at random and opens it, popping half of it into his mouth when he breaks it open. " _Your everlasting patience will be rewarded sooner or later_ ," he reads.

"In bed!" Darren adds, giggling. "Man, that's a great one."

Chris tries very, very hard not to think about how he could really go for his patience finally paying off in the form of someone in his bed. Not any specific someone. Certainly not Darren. Just... someone. Darren's quiet, and when Chris looks up he's staring down at the slip of paper in his hands, his broken cookie sitting on the counter beside him.

"What's it say?" Chris asks.

" _Only through taking chances can one reap rewards_ ," Darren says quietly.

Chris is opening his mouth to add _in bed_ , but then Darren's striding toward him, backing him up against the front of the refrigerator. "This is stupid," he says, and Chris is going to ask what he means but then Darren's leaning in and kissing him, soft but firm, his hand coming up to cup Chris's face. Chris kisses back, but just barely and mostly on instinct, because he also kind of forgets to breathe.

"Um," Chris gasps when Darren pulls back.

"Now the tension's gone," Darren says decisively, his eyes dark and flickering between Chris's eyes and his lips. "Right? Now everything's back to normal, and nothing has to be weird."

"Except normally you don't kiss me," Chris says faintly. In his defense, he's still a bit shocked, and maybe just a little preoccupied thinking about the way Darren's lips had felt against his, and how Darren's hand is still on his cheek. And there's that whole thing where Darren just _kissed him_.

"Well, yeah," Darren says, awkwardly, fidgeting a little. "Details."

"Darren," Chris says. "Look, it's not a big deal. It's like you said, it was just for the shoot. We don't have to make anything out of--"

Darren kisses him again, harder this time, a little more insistent, taking advantage of Chris's open mouth to lick wetly at his bottom lip. Chris is starting to feel loose and warm, his brain telling him to wrap his arms around Darren and pull him closer, kiss him deeper, which, no. No. Bad idea.

"Darren," he says, pulling back. Darren lets out a frustrated noise and tries to follow his lips, and Chris smacks at his arm. "Can you stop _kissing me_ instead of using words?"

"Words are hard," Darren says, nosing at Chris's cheek and trying to slide their lips back together. Chris kind of hates how turned on he is right now. "Kissing is easy."

" _You're_ easy, shut up," Chris says, pushing at Darren's shoulder and then blushing a little when he realizes how that sounded.

"Forget what you've heard," Darren mumbles, skimming his lips across Chris's cheek and down his jaw. "Those are just rumors."

"Darren," Chris groans. "We can't just-- we work together. And you're straight. And I'm not looking for a make out buddy. There are about a million reasons this is a bad idea, so stop _doing that_ ," he says, his voice breaking into an embarrassing whine when Darren sucks at the skin on the underside of his jaw.

"If I promise you this is not about looking for a make out buddy and that you're not my sexual crisis or anything and I've been thinking about this for a while, can we please just keep kissing?" Darren says in a rush, his lips trailing down Chris's neck.

"Are you just saying that so we can keep making out?" Chris asks, trying his best not to moan.

"No," Darren says, biting lightly at his neck in a way that makes heat pool low in Chris's stomach. "But I would really, really like to make out some more."

Chris considers saying no, considers pushing Darren away and telling him they have to talk about this. Darren makes it sound so _simple_ , like there's nothing weird about suddenly jumping Chris while they're putting leftovers away. But Darren's a pretty upfront guy, all stupidly earnest and sincere, and Chris knows Darren's not just fucking with him. There are still so many reasons this is a bad idea, but right now Darren's lips on his collarbone are making a pretty convincing case to the contrary, and Chris groans a little, letting his head fall back against the fridge.

"Okay," he says, and Darren's lips are back on his immediately, one hand wrapping around his waist and the other sliding behind his head, cushioning it against the fridge. Darren slows down, kissing Chris a little slower and deeper, taking his time. Chris isn't used to this, to finally getting what he wants - in this case, the attractive guy he's been guiltily lusting after for months who apparently wants nothing more than to kiss him right now - and his everlasting patience can only last so long. He makes a frustrated noise and grabs onto Darren's hips, pulling him a little closer.

"Don't be impatient," Darren mumbles against his lips. "I've been thinking about this."

"Like I haven't?" Chris says, and then Darren's kissing him again, rougher this time, his teeth catching at Chris's lip and his tongue pressing hot and insistent into Chris's mouth. It's so _much_ , and Chris is glad he has the fridge behind him and Darren holding onto him so he doesn't slide down to the floor.

"Fuck," Darren whispers against his mouth when Chris sucks at his bottom lip.

"How long?" Chris asks suddenly, and he worries that he's going to have to be more specific, but Darren seems to get it.

"A while," he says, sliding his fingers under Chris's shirt and petting at his back. "I didn't want to fuck anything up until I was sure."

"Sure about what?" Chris asks.

"That it wasn't just a crush."

"Oh," Chris says quietly. "I didn't think--"

"I know," Darren says. "I didn't want to-- I thought it would be better, just ignoring it, but then today, during the shoot, I couldn't. Shit, Chris." Chris laughs a little, mostly to himself, and Darren smiles softly at him. "What?"

"I felt so guilty for enjoying it so much," Chris says, heat creeping up into his face.

"Yeah?" Darren asks, his smile turning into more of a smirk. Chris simultaneously wants to kiss him and smack him.

"It's not like I was the only one," Chris says, raising one of his hands up to tangle in Darren's hair, tugging a little. Darren's breath hitches again, in the same way Chris had tried to ignore earlier, and he grins. "See?"

"No fair," Darren says, pressing a little closer and leaning his head back into Chris's grip.

"I've been really wanting to do that again," Chris says. "I'd apologize, but..."

"Yeah," Darren says, his voice rough. "Yeah. No apology needed. I'm not complaining."

"Good." Chris tugs a little harder until Darren's head is tilted back and then straightens up so he can lean down and kiss Darren. Darren slides his hands up to Chris's shoulders, squeezing a little and letting Chris kiss him, his hips jerking forward when Chris bites down on his lip.

"Shit," Darren says, pulling away breathlessly. "We should probably. I mean, if you don't want to--"

"Yeah," Chris says, reluctantly letting go of Darren's hair. "You should probably step back so I can actually move," Chris points out after a second.

"Oh, right," Darren says, stepping back awkwardly and shuffling his feet a little.

Chris smiles at him and Darren relaxes visibly, laughing quietly and rubbing at the back of his neck. "So that happened," he says, grinning at Chris.

"Yeah," Chris says. "It did. Is it gonna happen again?"

"I wasn't kidding," Darren says, his voice serious. "If you want, I mean," he says.

"Yeah," Chris says, stepping forward and kissing Darren softly before pulling back and turning to head back to the living room. "I want," he says, just loud enough for Darren to hear, and he grins when he hears Darren hurry to follow after him.

"Does that mean we can make out some more?" Darren asks, catching up to him in front of the sofa and wrapping his arms around Chris's waist from behind.

"You're very insistent, you know," Chris says, trying not to let himself stiffen up. "Shouldn't we, like, take a few minutes? Process how weird this is?"

"No," Darren says simply, tightening his arms a little. "You over-think everything."

"I do not," Chris says automatically.

"Chris, it took us thirty minutes to order food earlier because you couldn't decide between chicken fried or vegetable fried rice."

"It was an important decision," Chris mumbles.

"I know," Darren says, dropping a kiss to his shoulder. "Because you over-think. It's okay," he says quickly, squeezing his arms around Chris's waist. "I'm just not going to let you talk yourself out of something we both want." Chris is quiet for a minute, and Darren doesn't push it, just resting his forehead against Chris's back. Chris wants to tell Darren that he's wrong, that Darren can't just be _sure_ he wants this, just like that.

What if Darren's just having, like, a sexuality crisis. Or maybe he's drunk and making bad decisions after... a beer and a half. Or maybe the photoshoot lights have fried his brain, and this is just an extended hallucination. He's about to suggest that theory to Darren when Darren sighs and says, "Over-thinking. Stop that. It's time to make out some more." Darren just sounds so frustratingly certain, and. Well. Maybe he has a point. Maybe it can be that simple.

"Come on, Chris," Darren says. "Let your everlasting patience pay off already. The fortune cookie wills it so."

"Oh, well, if the _fortune cookie_ says so," Chris says, turning in Darren's arms and rolling his eyes. "Not all of us take our romantic advice from mass-market novelty desserts."

"Hey, don't knock it," Darren says, smiling at him. "There's a chance it might work out well for me. Hopefully in the very near future?" Darren asks, batting his eyes at Chris ridiculously. If Chris wasn't so stupidly charmed by Darren's stupid, charming face, he would probably hate him, a little. As it is, he just rolls his eyes again, sighs exaggeratedly, and decides that if is a hallucination, at least it's a good one.

"I don't know," Chris says after a few seconds, smirking at Darren. "I wouldn't want to start any rumors about _me_ being easy."

"I already had you in bed today, remember?" Darren says into his ear. "Too late."

  



End file.
